


Little Black Dress

by saidthemagpie



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Crossdressing, Drinking, Flirting, Gift Fic, M/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 17:37:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1519352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saidthemagpie/pseuds/saidthemagpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short gift/trade for a friend. Prompt: "Lupin coaxes Jigen into crossdressing for a job." Fine liquor, high fashion, thief husband shenanigans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Black Dress

“I’ll tell you my favorite part—-silk stockings. With a little lace trim. Looks cute, feels incredible…or, wait, no, maybe it’s the lipstick? Deep wine red, and moisturizing, too!  _So_  kissable.”

“You’re out of your goddamn mind.”

Lupin just laughs at him, light and easy as the cool summer night air drifting in through the open window. Jigen watches balefully from his perch on the edge of the sofa as Lupin turns back to the wardrobe, flipping through designer dresses like so many pages in a magazine. “Hey, I know what I’m talking about, here. It’s all part of the job, of course, but you learn to love the little things. Oh, I forgot I even had this Scassi! Mm—-you don’t quite have the hips for it. I’d say you’re more of a Givenchy man anyway. Can’t beat the classics.”

“Lupin, I’m serious. No.” Jigen flicks the ash from the end of his cigarette and gives him a hard stare. “Can’t you…I don’t know, ask Fujiko to go with you?”

There’s a beat, and then Lupin doubles over in a fit of giggles. Jigen rolls his eyes, ready for it—- “Fujiko! Ask Fujiko! Wait, I need to savor this.  _You’re_  asking  _me_  to call  _Fujiko_ —-and split the loot with her, 70/30 if I’m real lucky, or maybe she takes it all like usual—-just so you don’t have to wear a dress for a couple of hours. Listen to yourself.”

“I can’t do it! I’m not—-I’m not shaving!” His hand moves protectively to his beard, and Lupin looks like he might have tears in his eyes now. “Laugh all you want, asshole. There’s no dress in the world that’s gonna look right on me.”

“Don’t be dense.” Lupin crosses to him, breaking into Jigen’s personal space as quickly and easily as he ever has, one arm over his shoulder and a playful touch down his jawline. “You know you don’t have to shave. I’ll do your makeup.” Jigen shrugs him off with a “tch” of annoyance and moves to stand, but Lupin puts a hand on his chest—-“You aren’t fooling me. I seem to recall a sexy little maid in a red kimono who helped bag a golden statue a while back. I don’t remember her being this insecure.”

“What—-that was different! For one, I didn’t have to show any skin, or sigh and bat my eyelashes at a room full of lecherous old millionaires with sweaty palms—-whatever it is you think I’m gonna do while you make the connection with this Sugimoto guy. You want a pretty distraction, you call  _the_  pretty distraction, okay? You want somebody shot, I’ll be around.” He shoves past Lupin’s resistance, adjusting the brim of his hat to cast a shadow over the rising color in his cheeks.

He almost makes it to the door. “Jigen-chan,” Lupin whines, and that really shouldn’t work the way it does. “Just…try this one on, for me. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to wear it. Promise.”

It’s morbid curiosity that makes him turn. Lupin is holding a floor-length gown, and even Jigen recognizes that it  _is_  Givenchy, or else a very elegant fake—-almost identical to Audrey Hepburn’s famous little black number in  _Breakfast at Tiffany’s_. It’s shockingly out of place in Lupin’s over-the-top collection of women’s clothing, and Jigen is struck by the bizarre notion that the thief might have acquired this one specifically for him. That thought is replaced by a brief flash of Lupin wearing the whole outfit—-long gloves, cigarette holder, pearls. No. No, that’s not helping at all; his pulse is up, mouth dry, and Lupin is looking at him like he might be thinking something similar. Shit.

They size each other up for a solid minute, then Jigen exhales, a sarcastic whistle through his teeth. “I don’t believe you.”

“No? I’ll sweeten the deal. You try it on, you still get to decide if you’re going or not, and I break out the Dalmore I may or may not have been saving for a special occasion. We’ll drink to riches, but you have to dress the part, okay?”

Jigen’s mental scales waver—-the dress is heavy stuff, but Dalmore? Well. He’s not leaving the apartment. Nobody really has to know.

Twenty minutes later, he’s standing in the bathroom with his suit in a crumpled heap on the floor, trying to adjust the tight fabric of the dress over his newly-developed bust and hips: a padded bra and some truly inventive hosiery. The stockings are silk, and lacy, and damned if they don’t feel incredible, but Jigen will take that to his grave. The slit up the side of the dress makes him nervous, but all in all, he has to admit it—-the thing fits him, and somehow it looks good. He picks up his hat off the counter and tries in vain to make it work with rest of his ensemble, but in the end he sets it back where it was.

There’s a polite knock on the door, and then a half-second later Lupin cheerily storms in. “Decent yet? If you need a hand I can—-” He stops, eyes wide, and Jigen hears Lupin’s breath catch. He recovers quickly, but not completely; Jigen knows his partner well enough to see through practiced nonchalance. The smile and the affectionate clap on the back are a little stiff. “Not so bad, huh? I mean, you’ll need some latex and a good wig—maybe Audrey could make that beard work with this dress, _I_  think it’s throwing off your style—-but it’ll do for now. Come on out, I’ll get us some glasses.”

“The things a man’s gotta do to get a drink around here,” Jigen mutters, taking a private moment to look himself over again in the mirror before following Lupin back into the main room.

A candle now sits on the table, flickering away in the breeze, and next to it—-as promised—-is an amber bottle bearing a stag. Lupin measures out two small glasses and hands one to Jigen, who’s busy trying not to think about how the dress and the stockings feel against his skin as he moves.

“To luxury,” Lupin toasts, and adds with a grin, “May it come cheap.”

The clink of glasses, then the sweet relief of whiskey going down smooth. “Can’t say that isn’t worth a little trouble. This stuff is heavenly.” Warmth spreads through Jigen’s chest, and he sighs appreciatively.

“You aren’t in any trouble yet.”

He shoots Lupin a warning look, then, “Speaking of trouble—-where would I put my gun?”

The corners of Lupin’s mouth twitch up, and he sets his glass down on the table. “Where does Fujiko keep hers?”

“Never mind, I don’t even want to—-”

“Right about here,” Lupin purrs, hand slipping easily through the slit in the dress to curve around Jigen’s upper thigh. He doesn’t even flinch when Jigen drops his drink and the sound of breaking glass pierces the air, just tugs mischievously at the film of the stockings and smiles into his partner’s stricken face. “You can’t take your Magnum, obviously, but size isn’t everything.”

Lupin’s hand drifts a little higher, and Jigen tenses—- _not now, not like this_ competing with a guilty rush of anticipation. “Lupin…” he starts, but just as quickly, Lupin pulls away, and now Jigen really wants to hit him.

“I almost forgot! One last thing.” He reaches into his coat pocket and produces a gold tube—-for a second Jigen thinks it’s a bullet—-that he twists to reveal a dark red lipstick. Very slowly, deliberately, Lupin opens his mouth in an O shape and expertly applies the color to his own lips. There’s an audible smack as he presses them together again.

Jigen stares at him in a mixture of confusion and transfixion, and Lupin beams. “My favorite part,” he says, and Jigen has just enough time to think he really should have seen this coming before Lupin kisses him, soft and warm and full of smug victory.


End file.
